


Same Old Lang Syne

by dixiehellcat



Series: Tony Stark Bingo Round 4 [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Artist Steve Rogers, Christmas Eve, M/M, Making Up, Miscommunication, Snow, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28304037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dixiehellcat/pseuds/dixiehellcat
Summary: Two old lovers meet unexpectedly on Christmas Eve and catch up. Based on the Dan Fogleberg classic song of the same name, but with a twist.Fills the "Tony's poor life choices" square on my Round 4 Tony Stark Bingo card number 4028. (required info collected below) Rated teen for cuss words. :D
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Tony Stark Bingo Round 4 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2009245
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50
Collections: Tony Stark Bingo Mark IV





	Same Old Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> Bingo specifics:  
> Card Number: 4028  
> Square Filled (Letter AND number AND prompt) A1, Tony's Poor Life Choices  
> Ship/Main Pairing: Tony/Steve  
> Rating (Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit) teen  
> Major Tags/Warnings/Triggers: Christmas Eve, Angst with a Happy Ending, Making Up, Songfic, Snow, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Artist Steve Rogers, Miscommunication  
> Summary: Two old lovers meet unexpectedly on Christmas Eve and catch up. Based on the Dan Fogleberg classic song of the same name, but with a twist.

Steve spotted his ex-lover in the convenience store near his apartment, wearing an expensive suit and no overcoat, and standing with a basket hooked loosely over one arm. One foot held the freezer door open, while Tony scowled at two pints of ice cream, one in each hand. “The hazelnut isn’t bad, but the fudge is better,” Steve said as he stole up behind and touched his sleeve. 

Both pints nearly went flying. “What in the fuck—“ Tony began when he spun, with that look Steve remembered all too well, the one that was supposed to be ferocious but was actually adorable, even now. “Steve?” Steve smiled and raised his hand in greeting. “Fuck, it’s been years. How the hell are you?”

“I’m good. You?”

“Good. Great. Amazing. Of course I am, I’m me, right? Wait, don’t answer that, you know me too well to give anything other than a brutally honest answer.” Tony’s eyes were too bright, and the grin that split his face now was familiar from too many gossip column photos. “It’s Christmas Eve, Steve, a bodega isn’t a great place to be spending it." 

“Look who’s talking. South Boston’s a long way from New York City, Tony, don’t you have plans?”

Tony waved it off. “Had to check in with our office up here—they had a huge project due today, did a bang-up job on it, so I came up to thank them. It was a big deal, great for Stark Industries on multiple levels. Anyway, we finished up too late for me to haul my ass back to the Apple, so thought I’d grab some snacks, roll back to my hotel and watch _Die Hard_ or something similarly seasonal.” 

Sure enough, the basket contained an assortment of pretzels and candies. Steve sighed. Clearly Tony’s eating habits had not improved in the years since they had last seen each other. As badly as Tony had hurt him, it still made him sad to think that the billionaire head of one of the biggest companies in the nation had nothing to do, no place to be, nobody to be with, on this night of all nights. “I’m at loose ends tonight too. Want to go grab a beer and catch up?” he surprised himself by saying.

Judging from the way Tony’s eyes (still bottomless, honey-whiskey, and beautiful) widened, he was equally surprised. “You sure? I mean, don’t feel obliged, just because we crossed paths, it’s not like…um…You know what, fuck it, yes. Yes, let’s do that.” He shoved the ice cream back into the cooler so hard the basket on his arm tipped precariously and nearly spilled its contents all over the floor of the store. Steve rescued it and carried it to the checkout, and they stepped out into the light snowfall with Tony swinging the plastic sack casually by one finger.

Their plan hit a snag almost immediately, when they realized not one bar within walking distance was open this late on Christmas Eve. In the end, they wound up back at the convenience store, where they bought a six-pack of beer and split it sitting in Tony’s rental car in the parking lot, with the motor running for the heat. “I’ve seen your art all over,” Tony said. “You must be doing pretty well.”

“Yeah, it’s nice to be able to do what I love and make a living at it. That’s the good part. The schmoozing, the openings and galas and that shit, that’s not so good, but you gotta do what you gotta do,” Steve shrugged. He couldn’t stop looking at Tony, who still looked so hot, even with (or maybe, especially with) hints of grey in his dark hair and perfect beard, and remember how they had been together; how sure Steve had been that he was the one, until he found out that Tony the zany engineering student was actually Tony Stark, heir to a manufacturing fortune. He took another swallow of his beer, and his throat ached, whether from ill-suited emotion now, or from an echo of the screaming they had done at each other the night they broke up.

“Gotta do what you gotta do,” Tony echoed and lifted his can. “A toast, to the innocent times before we both knew that.” Steve suppressed a frown, and clinked his can before they both drank again. “You look great, Steve-o. I…sometimes I’m not sure I remember how blue your eyes were, but now, yeah, memory hasn’t failed me.”

Steve let out a small laugh and shook his head. He couldn’t let himself fall back into that trap. “You look good too. You’re dating somebody, right? Tiberius something?”

“Aw, you keep up with my scandals, that’s so sweet.” Steve grimaced, and Tony did too. “No, we broke up. I would have liked to have said I loved him, but I didn’t want to lie. One woman I dated, I did, I do, love her, but not—like that, you know?”

They plowed through the beer, talking about nothing, until Steve’s tongue was almost tired from it. Tony, too, seemed to have run out of things to say, for all that he had never been at a loss for words when they had dated. He wished, with a sudden fierce intensity, that he could reach beyond the emptiness he saw in Tony’s eyes, but he had no idea how, except to open himself, and he had sworn he would not ever leave himself vulnerable to being hurt that way again. He swished around the last swing in the bottom of his last can, then raised it. “To auld lang syne?”

“Leave it to you, Irish,” Tony’s laugh was brittle. They drained the last, and Steve scooped the empties up and got out of the car to deposit them in the trash can outside the store. “Want a ride home?” Tony called out the open door.

“No, I’m just around the corner. The walk’ll do me good. It was nice seeing you again.” Steve slammed the car door and stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. 

“What, no Christmas kiss?” The words were light, but for a moment Steve fancied he saw something deeper moving in Tony’s eyes. it must have just been the night, and the snow, and the fluorescent lights of the store’s sign, though. “Have a good holiday.” Steve fought back the old pain he had thought was gone with his school days, and stepped back as Tony put the car in gear; but the next moment, it stopped, barely out of the parking space, and the window rolled down. “Steve? What happened? What happened with us? What did I do wrong?”

The false cheer of the minute before was gone; Tony’s voice was urgent now, and almost breaking. “What happened?” Steve repeated, disbelieving. “You never told me who you were. I had to find out from a supermarket rag. I figured you just wanted a poor art student to play around with, until you finished MIT and went back to the world of your rich buddies and playboy parties. You said I knew you too well, but apparently I didn’t, because the Tony Stark everybody else knew wasn’t the one I knew.”

“What? No. No!” Tony shoved the car into park and jumped out to face Steve. The snow was a little heavier and wetter now, and it stuck in his ridiculously long eyelashes and made Steve yearn, against all his better judgement, to kiss them away. “You knew the real me, not the pre-fab me. You didn’t give me a chance to explain, that night. I’d never been out of the public eye long enough to find out who I was without a spotlight on me. I told the first few people I dated after I got up here, who I was I mean, but after I did I never knew if they were staying with me for me, or for the—the bullshit, the added features, that came with being ‘Tony Stark’. I knew the only way I’d ever know for sure was to try to just be Tony, and see if anybody could care about me.” One hand reached toward Steve, halted, jerked back, then forward, then faltered. “You did, Steve. You’ve always been the only one who did.”

Steve’s mouth opened, but nothing would come out for a minute. “Tell me the truth, Tony,” he finally got out. “If we had stayed together—would you have told me? When?”

“Would I? Of course! When—that, I don’t know. You were so talented, and so proud, and I knew you wouldn’t want to feel like a, a kept artist, or what the hell ever. I—I would have figured out a way, somehow, but you found out, and you were so mad. ” Tony shook his head, angry or agitated or something Steve couldn’t put a name to. “I’ve made some very bad decisions in my life, Steve, but letting you walk away was the worst.”

“Walking away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done,” Steve whispered, “and maybe the dumbest. Can we try again? Maybe, please?”

Tony looked like a Christmas angel had just descended from heaven with every gift he had ever wished for. “Yes.” 

When he threw himself into Steve’s arms, Steve could feel him literally shaking. “Hey, get back in the car before you freeze.”

Tony refused to let go. “Come back with me? We can sit, and talk, and eat my stupid junk food, and watch some un-Christmasy Christmas movie, and just—damn it, Steve, I’ve missed you so much.”

“Me too,” Steve admitted as he bundled Tony in behind the wheel and went around to get in the other side. “No _Die Hard_ though. It’s so done. I’m sick of yippee ki yay motherfucker. How about _Edward Scissorhands? The Ref? Kiss Kiss Bang Bang_?”

“Kiss what? Wait, kiss _me_.” Steve’s butt had barely hit the passenger seat before Tony was leaning across to plant one on his lips. “Kiss-kiss-bang-bang sounds like a good way to spend Christmas Eve, and I don’t mean watching movies,” Tony smirked when he pulled back.

The snow on the windshield was melting into a light rain. The streets they drove through were sloppy and grey, and Steve could not find it in his suddenly rekindled heart to care. The light in Tony’s eyes every time they met his was all the warmth and Christmas light he needed.


End file.
